The Second Chance
by Katana Salazar
Summary: Short like a Dwarf. Hair like a Hobbit. Beauty and Grace like an Elf. And the power of the gods. That is what made up one Hermione Granger after her death at the hand of Lord Voldemort in the battle of Hogwarts. Reborn into a time so different from her own, Hermione is expected to have peace for thousands of years before bringing peace, finding love in the most unlikely places.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am aware of the problem which has occurred with my first upload of this story and I am working on finding out what happened. For those who seen that at first and actually came back to check on the story to see if it was fixed, I thank you.**

 **This is a short Chapter, I know that. But hang with me here. It might be rather Mary Sue, and my apologies for it. This will end up being Hermione Granger/Legolas, I have weighed out the options of Hermione/Thranduil, but that didn't see, right for me. Hermione couldn't just sweep in and thaw Thranduil's heart. I like the idea of Hermione/Thranduil, it is a rather rare pair and I like rare pairs, but Hermione/Legolas will be the way to go here.**

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 **Pairings:** Hermione Granger/Legolas, (maybe) Hermione Granger/Thorin Oakenshield.

 **Warnings:** Major Character Death, Glitter, Smut, Language, Slight Mary-Sue, Elemental Magic, Drama, Asshole Thorin at first, Rude Legolas, Meddling Gandalf, Jealous Thorin, and probably more.

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The Second Chance

Chapter One: A Day of Death, A Day of Birth

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, for that belongs to J.K Rowling. Nor do I own Middle Earth and the creatures within, that belongs to J.R.R Tolkien. Though, the OC which you do not know are mine.

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The day was a day of battle, a battle which many would not leave from. This battle was to be called the Battle of Hogwarts. Both good and bad were lost, light and dark, all colors of grey. The worst death for one Harry Potter to witness out of all, was his best friend's death, Hermione Granger. She was captured then brought to the courtyard, tortured by one crazed Bellatrix Lestrange, then killed personally by Voldemort. The bloody muggle way of death caused everyone to cringe except the killer itself and its loyal servant who was madder than the hatter himself. To Hermione herself, her death happened in slow motion.

She wanted to beg for death, to meet the peaceful place beyond the darkness that was clouding her eyesight. For she did not want this, who in the right state of mind would want such a thing? It happened slowly, she watched the knife run across her skin as he teased the petite witch, his red eyes seeping into her doe brown ones, it felt as if he could see her life which was flashing before her eyes. Hermione could see her parent's, the happy memories, learning Elvish with her mother, baking in the kitchen with her mother, coming to Hogwarts, meeting Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the whole lot.

This was the end, she knew it, as did everyone else. For the darkness had won, Hermione could vaguely hear the shouts of her friends who were witnessing this. She felt pity, pity for them, herself, but most importantly, she felt pity for the Half Blooded man who stood in front of her. For he was the weakest of them all, he had nothing to live for, he did not have friends, a wife or children. He was nothing compared to those on the light side and those very few like the Malfoy's which had something which was worth fighting for. Hermione pitied the man whose name was Tom, and if it be the last thing she say, she would tell him. For she did not mean to speak in the language she was raised on, but she did anyway, and the vile creature who was carving into her flesh understood. Her words caused fate, and her two older sisters to write a new path for her in a new life.

" _I pity you, for you have nothing. You are nothing but an heir to a man who was so weak he had to leave because his pride was wounded. As you once said, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it, and you Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. a filthy half-blood, are too weak to seek the true power. The power of love, friendship, and a real life which is not lived in fear, but in harmony. Kill me, because I will see you on the other side Tommy."_ There were few, very, very few who understood, and the ones on the side of the light translated the melodic language for the others to hear the truth. It was Lucius Malfoy who translated, loudest of them all. For him, his wife, and his son were standing on the side of the light, holding back Harry Potter so he would not get killed for his recklessness.

Then, with a snarl, Voldemort slit the throat of Hermione Granger, her blood coating him in warmth and wetness. There were many screams, but Hermione, who was choking on her blood, could not hear the sound, for she heard the call of her home. Her true home within another world, another time far before Christ, a home which promised love, laughter, and family; but only after another battle and war. She caught fate's eye, who then gave her a second chance in life to prevent the life which she once lived within. It would seem like another world, but it was all but so. The world which felt so far from her own, would be her world many millennials later after the success of Sauron within Middle Earth. Voldemort was the heir of Sauron, for he and Hermione were destined to meet.

' _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month die… and the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives… the one with_ _the power to vanquish the darkness shall be born as the seventh month dies.'_

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 **August 3rd** **st** **TA 111, Middle Earth**

Seeing an elfling was rare, but seeing one abandoned, bloodied, and half alive on the borders of Rivendell was something one did not simply see every thousand years. Lord Elrond was patrolling the borders of his kingdom when the wails came from in between the mountain pass and caught his keen ear's attention. When Lord Elrond turned the corner he almost lost his breakfast, for he was a healer and was used to gruesome scenes, but this was beyond what he could handle. A mere babe, no older than 3 or 4 days old, bloody, skinny, battered, and weak. With such ease, he picked up the child and ran, for the young ellon did not stop, he ran to his study where his best herbs for healing were hidden. Busting open the door, his wife who was reading in a chair, began to cry as she watched her husband heal the child.

It was hours later when in a nursery that Celebrían finally settled the child to sleep, getting a good look at the peaceful child in the crib. When the child was awake, she had golden eyes with flecks of brown, blue, and silver within. Her hair, though not much, looked like pure gold, it was bright, had a shine to it, and was already lengthy for her age, but like a Hobbit, it was a curly mass. Both Celebrían and Lord Elrond decided that her birthdate would be on July 31st, born as the seventh month dies.

Days later is when the newlywed couple of two years decided to raise the little girl as their own. Lord Elrond came up with the name, for they could not simply call the healing elfling, 'baby' or 'little one' all her life. Lord Elrond was watching the child, who was watching her surroundings like a hawk, her small mind seemed to analyze everything around her. So together they agreed.

Hermione Elarinya, meaning that she is a Goddess of War, a warrior, knowledgeable, and beautiful beyond measure. The name fit.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** **I am back mes bonbons! Still a short chapter, I know! HOLD ON THOUGH! I actually rewrote this chapter before uploading it, I felt the need to dial down the Mary Sues. I was going to upload last night, but decided to wait until today and proof read it with a less sleep-addled mind. And I am glad to say I did such a thing. There may be some mistakes here and there, if there are! IF... which is a big IF, please leave a kind review about it and let me know so at the end of the month I can go over the chapters and revise them.**

 **Fun Fact! This was meant to be a _Hermione Granger/Thranduil_ story! I love the pair, I truly do! It is rare and there isn't much seen of it, *weep*, but! I may write a fic with that pairing one day in the future. I have posted the first chapter on my twin page on Ao3, so worry not if you happen to pass by it over there.**

 **The desire to finish this fic and continue onto a** **sequel** **including LoTR is growing stronger everyday. I have final exams popping up in about... late this month or next month. So... stress... yuup.**

 **I hope you life this chapter, thank you for the favorites, follows, views, and reviews! Don't forget to follow for updates, I'd hate for you to loose this fic!**

 **Je vous aime tous!**

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 **The Second Chance**

 **Chapter Two: Visiting Eru**

 **Disclaimer: I own a few OC which will be sprinkled through the story. Hermione belongs to both me and J.K Rowling, it is hard to say since she is basically and OC in Middle Earth due to my twisted desire to have her be different.**

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Hermione Granger woke with a start, but she truly wasn't awake. It took a few minutes for her to realize that she wasn't in the crib which she had fallen asleep in. But it was blurry, why she fell asleep in a crib, she did not know. The last thing she remembered was the warmth of her blood in her own throat, the metallic taste which made her gag. And then darkness, the rest after was furry. So why she was in a place that looked oddly like the Hall of Mandos in Middle Earth, she didn't know either.

Hermione grew up speaking Elvish instead of English or some other normal language, so she knew this place because of pictures. Hermione believed her parents to be rather mad for believing that Middle Earth was real, but the witch knew her mind could not make up something with this much detail in a dream. It made the bushy haired female wonder if this was her heaven, if so, she didn't understand why.

This wasn't her idea of heaven or the afterworld. In the distance, she could see people, they were beyond the pillars which were littered across the stone hall. As Hermione went to take a step towards the people, someone materialized in front of her, causing her to spook. It was a man, he looked like an elf which Hermione had seen multiple times through her books. As if reading her mind, he answered.

"I am Eru, you may know me from the scrolls which have been passed down through your family line. Your family line was one of the very last ones who knew of the world eons before your time. Tolkien was one of them. The Malfoys as well." Vaguely, Hermione remembered Lucius Malfoy's voice ringing out over the battle field, he was many yards away and Hermione had not yelled her last words, they were but a mere whisper. Not a single human would be able to hear it, so that made one wonder if said person was actually human. It could explain a few things.

"Where am I?" The male cocked his head to the side, his pointed ear protruding thought his long silver hair.

"You know this answer, yet you ask the question. You wish that it was not real, and you are merely going mad. But Hermione Granger, you are not going mad. These are the Halls of Mandos." The witch put her palms to her face and pressed, hoping this was all a dream, that her death was a dream, that Voldemort was just some twisted nightmare. But she knew that it was a fruitless hope. The blood on her clothes said that it was true.

"Why am I here then? That is one thing I do not know at the moment. I wish to know why I am in the Hall of Mandos." A soft smile was present on All-God's features, with a hum, the surroundings melted into a study of sorts, it was regal and large, but warm with soft colors. A fire in the fireplace was giving the room a darker orange hue.

"You are in Mandos because I wanted you to be in Mandos. You will not be in Mandos for long, I will iron out some details which you need to know before sending you on your way to a new life. I don't do this for everyone, but I find you worthy enough for this. I would have chosen your friend, Harry Potter. But that boy would simply not die." Hermione let out a soft laugh, it was true, and he wouldn't die. Hermione was pretty sure if a Flobberworm touched him while he was dying or dead, it would somehow save his life.

"Why me, you say me to be worthy, but…why?" Eru acted as if this was the most normal conversation in the world, which irked Hermione.

"I chose you for multiple reasons. The first and foremost is because you show magical strength not even Mithrandir has. You have character, your heart is filled with passion, and you forgive easily even when some should not be forgiven. You didn't get the chance, like many others, to grow and become who you wished to be. But if I were to simply drop someone into Middle Earth and say 'save the world', they wouldn't. You on the other palm…" Hermione sighed, walking along the bookshelves on the walls, they were filled with tombs of old, new, and in between. Her fingers itched to touch them, read them, and hoard them, but she didn't do anything but look.

"So you want me to save the world? Again. If it hasn't passed your godly mind, I just died and I wish to be in peace." The god's lip twitched in amusement at her quick comeback. He silently wondered who to pair her with.

"And you will be in peace, for thousands of years before you have to save the world again. I will not just plop you in the middle of everything with a potato to defend yourself with. You will have time to adjust, to grow from the crib which you lay within at the moment." Hermione's head turned to the god, her brows furrowed and her gears ticking.

"I am a babe at the moment?" He nodded in response to her question. "How will I save the world from Sauron? Since that is no doubt who I need to save the world from, Frodo Baggins is supposed to defeat him." The god shook his head, wrong she was.

"That is a mere book, it was an actual fictional book. It was an alternative ending to the war, Sauron had succeeded in taking over middle earth. Tolkien had written it to his liking, and almost everyone's liking. Think of this as re-writing the pages, the old ones are torn out, you have the chance to save the Durin's line, Fíli, Kíli, and Thorin. Hundreds of thousands of lives, and if you succeed in the end, you will prevent Voldemort from even existing. He was the heir to Sauron, Salazar Slytherin was the Heir to Sauron." It was no mystery that Hermione would accept, she could not pass up something so… so… life fluctuating.

"There seems to be more of these 'details' of which you wish to iron out. What are they?" Eru allowed his lip to quirk into a small smile, she had a mind like his own in a way.

"Voldemort is Sauron's heir, you are mine. It is why he feared you, and Harry Potter. Harry Potter is the heir to the throne of Gondor, Aragorn came close to destroying the ring by the side of Frodo, which is why he was feared. See, not everything is the same as the books… it is far from the same. Your presence may affect smaller things if you avoid causing a ripple effect. If you do tinker with the plot line, make sure you do it to your advantage, think everything out. That is a tip, take it and hoard it." Hermione's fingers faltered as she ran them across the spins of one of the books on the shelf. Turning on a dime she brought her confused look to face Eru.

"Your heir? How? I am a mere mortal, plus, they say you live forever, so what need for an heir will they be if you never die?" Ever the questioner. A small smirk played at the corners of Eru's lips before answering, choosing his words wisely.

"They do not know everything Hermione, books that is. While I do live forever, I do have a desire to create more than just middle earth and I wish to have someone to watch over it while I do so, someone who I trust. You don't have to do it, you still have thousands of years and more to choose, but I wish you to think over it. And you are not mortal, your body has merely forgotten the elven magic, your fea is, more or less, locked away. There was not much elven magic from when you lived in that time, once you are exposed, your magic will flourish into the power of the gods of Middle Earth and beyond that. You can live on Middle Earth soil for eons, I am in no rush to create other universes. Grow, live, learn, love, and have a family if you wish to." Finally sitting down, Hermione looked into the soft orange flames of the fire. This was a lot of information, she would need time to process it, perhaps more than a few thousand years. Eru continued.

"While we are in your mind, I can remove some bad memories if you would like, make the nightmares fade some. Would you like that? There are also somethings that will come over from the previous world with you. But, over time, your memories will fade from your previous life, it will start out small, little details at first. I will help you with that later on if you wish." The female's eyes turned on him sharply.

"I do not wish to forget what I am fighting for. So I will keep all my memories, even the bad ones. I will keep everything because if I do not, I will not learn how to fight the nightmares in the future from something different, should the need occur. I have an idea for my memories, how often will I be able to speak to you?" The idea was a good one, she knew that by the time she was done, she would have a gallery full, but she could manage.

"Whenever, you may wish to speak with me, or I to you. Of course, you don't have to be asleep to speak to me though. Often a voice in your head, but never a materialistic version of me. Now, it is nearing the time where you must wake into your new life, I realize that this will be hard on you, but it is for the best, truly. I have two more things which I wish to tell you." Hermione nodded for the god to continue, she was happy he said that 'he realizes' instead of 'he knows'. He was an All-God, how in merlin's name could he know.

"The first is your 'One', as you know from reading, Elves only fall in love once. You will not meet your 'One' for much time, you will meet his father, mother, and guard before you meet him. He will be pinning after someone else, believing that she is his 'One'. But it is not so, the love is unrequited. He will more than likely blow you off, not even notice you are there until you touch. It will be difficult, he may not have lost as much as you, he may seem like an arrogant brat, but he does know loss." Hermione's mind analyzed the statement, before Eru could continue onto the second thing, she spoke up.

"His is an elf, born before me, and has probably lost a parent. It is the way which you worded it, now, continue." Again, the small smirk played at the corner of the All-God's lip as he watched the female.

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month die… and the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the darkness shall be born as the seventh month dies."_ With those words, everything went black.

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Cries of the new born child in the room over woke Lady Celebrían with a start, Lord Elrond, her husband, with all his elven hearing; was still dead to the world in a deep sleep. The healing took a lot out of him, especially to this extent. Elrond had told his wife that the small child would forever have that scar on her neck. There were only a few theory about what may have happened to the child. A few which included the Gods of Middle Earth.

Celebrían knew that the child was here for a reason. But what the reason was, the elven Lady had no clue. So up she stood with the swish of her silk robes, she went to the room adjoined to her own. Hermione Elarinya, it was a fitting name. The first few days, she woke on a few times, her golden eyes seemed to pierce through everything, but they had a dull look to them. Like the child was there physically, but not mentally.

While her husband said that the child would heal physically, there was no telling what could happen to her mental state if she remembered anything. So when Celebrían came into see the soft golden eyes shine with actual awareness for the first time since she was brought into Imladris, the female elf almost broke into tears. It was relieving.

Picking up Hermione, who was fussing over being hungry, she left the room which held her husband. To the kitchens she was off.

When Hermione woke, she couldn't control her crying. If she had more control over herself than just her mind, she would have rolled over and gone back to sleep. But the new-born body seemed to have other ideas. So when the female elf, which she assumed to be her new Naneth, came in and took her from the skillfully crafted crib, Hermione settled down into soft cries. It reminded her of being 13 again, never having control over ones emotions at that age due to the fact that hormones played a role during those years.

At the thought of Harry, Ron, and everyone else, she actually began to cry. Tears clouded her vision and wails pierced her sensitive ears. The elves of Imladris began to poke their sleepy heads from their rooms to see the Lady walking down the hall holding the baby Elfling which had been the buzz for the past few days and probably would be for the next few years. Some could have believed the child to be a doll if it wasn't for the squirming and screaming coming from it. So small and fragile.

As they neared the kitchen, the tears still didn't bubble down, but merely got louder. Glorfindel the Balrog Slayer was up a midnight snack as always when the Lady came in. Coving his ears to ward off the wails, he smiled fondly even if his ears hurt. Lady Celebrían seemed to have her hands full so far, and this was only the fourth or fifth day of having the little one around.

Glorfindel helped his Lady feed the child, even while eating, she was still blubbering, tears always rimming her golden eyes. Once finished, Celebrían thanked the golden haired warrior before leaving for her rooms again. Her husband still asleep, Celebrían placed Hermione down in her crib and began to sing softly.

While Hermione's mind welcomed the sleep, her small body attempted to fight it. If this was to be her life for about a 100 years, than Merlin help her, she would need to build an Astronomy tower to pitch herself off of. At that thought, her mind wandered to Gandalf and Albus Dumbledore, she was pretty sure that Gandalf was somehow related to Dumbledore, the similarities were far too great… She'd like to see the twinkling blue eyes again, they were a sign of comfort, as were the emerald green of Harry's. Those were her last thoughts before her small body gave into the fight for sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** **Again, a short chapter! But it kicks up in the next chapter. The next chapter includes Mr. Bilbo Baggins... so it kicks off from the next chapter. I know that these chapters are probably not needed, but oh well. Your here so deal with it my dears. I re-wrote this chapter as well as the last one, I think I'm going to do it for the next one just because it seems to be effective for editing when I still don't have someone to edit or revise with me.**

 **There isn't much to say in this A/N... I mean, I am going to thank you all because that is what I normally do, but... ya.**

 **Thank you! All! Of you. Like, every single one of you who are stupid enough to read my writing because... well no need for because. Just thank you! If you haven't already, follow, favorite, and review. All spelling and grammar mistakes are mine, if you have something to say of them, than say it kindly.** **Encore une fois, Merci!**

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 **The Second Chance**

 **Chapter Three: Up we Grow**

 **Disclaimer: I am still unsure about Hermione Elarinya, she spurred from J.K Rowling's Hermione Granger, but is not so. I don't make any profit off of her, sadly because I had seen a nice pair of shoes last week that complimented my legs, but… sadly… no.**

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Hermione's nightmares returned with spiteful vigor, she woke up screaming at the top of her small lungs multiple times. Each time, Hermione felt bad for waking her new Naneth. It was the next day after Hermione came into full awareness when her elven hearing caught up on the conversation in the next room. It was mid-morning and it seemed that the young Lord Elrond had finally woken from his death like sleep.

"My love, she has nightmares. For her mind to be so far developed is unheard of, it must have something to do with the Valar." Lady Celebrían's voice was soft, but worried.

"I believe the same thing Cele, but there is not much we can do right now. She can't speak, she can't walk, or even write. The best we can do is raise her, and if she is to remember anything, than we can only hope that she will confide in us when she is ready"

And Hermione did remember… she remembered it all in vivid detail, everything. Even when she lived before this second chance at life, she remembered it all. It hadn't begun to fade, not yet. Up Hermione grew in grace and beauty, her nose was normally to be found in a book if she wasn't up to mischief with her two brothers, Elladan and Elrohir. They were the elven versions of Fred and George, minus the red hair.

As she grew, so did her magic, her parents noticed it and murmured to themselves about it while Hermione was meandering around in the grass, turning the grass a bright purple color. Hermione thought her age to be around 5 years old in mortal years, when she was really 20 years of age. Hermione decided to wait until she was older before she told her Ada and Naneth, her Naneth gave birth to her brother's in TA 130. The names were picked out with the help of Hermione, Elladan and Elrohir. Arwen was to be born in TA 241, in 111 years, which made Hermione feel old as it was. But the years passed quickly, within a blink of an eye if you will.

Before Hermione knew it, she was 130 years old and barley felt 15. She did not speak of Harry, Ron, Ginny, or anyone else. No one knew where she came from besides herself and Eru, who she talked to often. So when the All-God's voice rang in her mind, telling her that she was to tell her parents the night on her sister's birth of her past, she prepared to do so.

When said night came around, Hermione was nervous, this didn't go unnoticed by her brothers. So they practically drug Hermione from the archery into waterfall to help catch a toad they spotted. That was how Lord Elrond found his three children, soaked to the bone, laughing, and chasing a toad around in the moon light which shone unto the valley of Imladris. He stood there and watched, marveling at how time had pasted so quickly, how his children managed to grow up so fast.

When Hermione caught the toad, golden curly hair soaked and flowing to her waist, golden eyes shining with glee, Elrond stepped in to announce the birth of his youngest daughter and their newest sibling, Arwen.

"I advise you to dry off if you wish to see your newest sibling. Cannot have her getting sick at such a young age." Elladan and Elrohir both yelped at the sound of their father's voice, surprised that he had snuck up on them. Hermione on the other hand had felt her father's magic before anything else, knowing he had snuck upon them.

"Is she as beautiful as I have predicted Ada?" Hermione's soft voice met the ears of those around her, her brothers were waiting in anticipation if their sister's visions were true.

"Just as beautiful and then some Hermione. We will have to chase off suitors with a broom when due time comes." The twins and Hermione laughed softly, stepping from the water Hermione waved her free hand, that wasn't filled with a fat toad, drying her brothers and herself off with her magic. It was a simple charm that Hermione had performed for years before other elflings showed magical signs. Celebrían and Elrond were both proud to call Hermione their Daughter.

"Aren't you going to leave the toad behind Hermione? Surly you would not want a… slimy creature in your quarters?" Elrond's displeasure for the toad only caused Hermione to laugh, her angelic laugh seemed to float through the valley of Imladris.

"No, I will keep him. Besides, I can perhaps find a mate for Trevor, until then, I will fatten him up." Her delicate fingers poking at its squishy sides, her lips pursed in disapproval for the lack of weight of her new friend.

"Trevor, such a peculiar name is it not?" Elladan and Elrohir stated loudly, causing Hermione to ignore her brothers with a wave of a hand before walking towards the healing halls where her mother would be, recovering from the taxing child birth. Trevor, it was a name she picked as a reminder of Neville Longbottom's toad, the search for Trevor lead to meeting Harry and Ron so it was special.

Even though dry, Hermione decided to head to her rooms for a change of dress wear. Something more comfortable for the night time air, though elves could feel almost no cold, it was engrained into Hermione's mind that this was considered cold to 'normal' people. So she threw a shawl over her silk dress and placed Trevor in the hot spring bath which Hermione created a few years before.

It was true, Arwen was as beautiful as Hermione had expected, and then some. Hermione already envied her hair, long, dark, and not curly locks. Hermione often wondered why she could never tame her hair, with all the magical power she had, nothing would work. Brushes ended up getting stuck in her hair, combs breaking due to hateful curls. It was hard having the golden curls as it was running wild, let alone attempting to tame them. Hermione was sure that Glorfindel was fearful of her hair, and he was a mighty Balrog slayer whose skin glowed due to the second chance at life which he was given.

Often Hermione found her mind wandering to what Gondolin would look like… It was described very vividly by Glorfindel when he had too much elvish wine on special occasions. Other than that, not many heard much of it from the Golden Flower Protector. But often, Hermione felt that the description was not vivid enough, wishing she could have seen the city encircled by mountains. While Hermione day dreamed of such places, her train of thought went to the offer Eru made her. If she were to rule over Middle Earth, the idea of rebuilding Beleriand to its former glory before the War of Wrath was very tempting.

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Twas later on that night when Hermione ventured to her parents room. Nervous and fidgeting, wondering what her parents would think of her when she told them the truth and that she remembered. It was silly and irrational that she thought her parents would think less of he because of where she truly came from, Hermione knew that.

But even if she did know, the fear fought back against the logical thoughts, refusing to be purged.

With a soft knock on the door, Hermione waited for the affirmative that it was safe to come in.

"Enter." And Hermione did so. Her parents were in their large bed, it was the exact same all those years ago. Except for some clothes here and there draped out across a chair. With a soft smile at her parents, the young sorceress padded into the room, closing the door behind her.

"What brings you hear at this hour dear?" It was her mother who spoke up, she stopped working on her tapestry of the whole family to focus her attention on her eldest child. Her father Elrond was placing his book down on the side of the nightstand.

"I… I wanted to speak of a serious matter… of the night I was brought here from the mountain pass." Her Ada sucked in a sharp breath, other than that, neither of Hermione parents showed any signs of distress.

"Come up here and sit dear." Hermione smiled softly at her mother who was patting the spot in between herself and Ada. Slowly, Hermione crawled onto the bed and plopped into the middle. This would take some strength, in the beginning Hermione often wondered if she would fade from the pain of her previous life. All the death, emotional pain, and hopelessness. Banishing those thoughts for the time being, she looked ahead, not wishing to see her parents faces as she spoke for the first time in over a hundred years of the demise of herself.

"I remember it all, and then some before that. My birth name before then was Hermione Jean Granger, I was born in 1979, there were no S.A or F.A then, this was eons later from this year. I was born to people who knew nothing of magic, for it was feared. At the age of 11, I received a letter saying I was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… This is how I died…" And so Hermione told her story. Her parents never intervened with questions, those would come later on.

It was about 2 hours later when Hermione was finished speaking, her mouth dry and throat raw from not enough water. With a twist of a wrist, the water that was in her father's drinking glass floated from its place in the glass. A perfect blob made its way to Hermione's small mouth. Elemental Magic was rare.

She was laying on her back, looking up at the stone ceiling, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt, the pain was almost unbearable. But it felt as if there was a weight lifted from her shoulders, she never spoke of it to anyone, not people anyway. But grasshoppers could only understand only so much.

"You worry that we will view you different in a bad way. Yet I cannot understand as to why that is. You are our daughter, you always will be. Even if you did not come from my womb, you are my child. Never, ever forget that Hermione. This just proves the strength of which we believed you to have." Celebrían spoke softly, running her hands through her daughters golden hair. Unlike Glorfindel's hair, Hermione's hair looked to be newly melted dwarfish gold.

Elrond smiled at his daughter fondly, whipping away tears that attempted to stair her smooth pale cheeks. His eyes trailing to the scar on her neck. Most of the time, Hermione wore dresses that would come to her neck, they were modest to the point of uncomfortable on her. To think that this was her second life, that she had two life time's worth of experience.

"Hermione, you are everything I could wish for in a daughter and more so. I am proud Hermione, proud of you, proud of everything that you are and will become…"


	4. Chapter 4

**The Second Chance**

 **Chapter Four**

 **Disclaimer: Still… I am unsure if Hermione Elarinya is my character or still belongs to J.K Rowling. Could someone actually help me clear this up…? Wait, no. No lawyers... just let me know what you think.**

* * *

Gandalf was here! Of course, Gandalf-also known as Mithrandir among the elves-had been here more than once in the past, but this was a special occasion to Hermione. She had counted down the years to this particular year. It was time to reclaim the Lonely Mountain!

Hermione returned home to Imladris early from a mission which took her to Mt. Doom's base. It was one Eru had sent her on to extract Orcs which attempted to reside there. It was an easy trip, both there and back. During the past 1000 plus years Hermione had mastered her Animagus, which came in handy, but was also frightening. If Thorin Oakenshield were to find out on the trip to Erabor, she would have to fly there and wait until the daft dwarves came and woke up Smaug because this was one thing Hermione refused to miss out on.

It wasn't just the Animagus at which Hermione had mastered, she had also studied for a few hundred years under her Grandmother, Lady Galadriel. Grandmother Galadriel had taught her everything she knew and all the magic of which she could pass on. Galadriel was unable to share much with her Daughter, Hermione's Mother, since the knowledge would fall null to Lady Celebrían as she did not share the same amount of power as her daughter, Hermione, and her mother, Galadriel.

That wasn't the only person of which Hermione studied under. A hundred years back, Hermione left to go up north towards the Wastelands of which were perceived to be empty ever since the death of two out of three of the Fire Drakes, seeing as Smaug happened to be the one third that was still alive, he had taken up residence in Erabor. Hermione found that it wasn't empty, but dragons older than Smaug, Glaurung, and Ancalagon. They were the Ancient Dragons created by Manwë after seeing that his brother, Melkor, had created the Fire Drakes.

They were friendly beasts with kind hearts and no desire for gold, human flesh, and the sort. They could go thousands of years without a meal and still not be hungry. Hermione was accepted by them, they said she had the blessing of Manwë and the rest of the other Valar. Agreeing to teach Hermione of what they knew in exchange that she was to use her elemental magic to morph a part of the North into a valley of green and light of which they could prosper. And so Hermione did. She was sad to leave, the Dragons which laid peace up in the North took pity upon her and themselves. Gifting Hermione with a baby Dragon who was connected to them, much like a looking glass. If she were ever in mortal peril, they promised to storm down to where she was and take her back up North, hoarding her and protecting her like a princess in a tower. But the gift. His name was Scorpius, and he had a knack for setting beards on fire. Hermione had placed a spell upon the little fire breathing dragon preventing it from growing any larger until she wished so.

The little dragon was still having issues controlling its fire, so Hermione helped Scorpius every day using her elemental powers. That is how Gandalf had found Hermione, sitting outside by the waterfall where she found Trevor those years ago, teaching a Dragon to control its fire. Hermione knew the wizard was there, she knew exactly the precise moment that Mithrandir stepped into the Valley of Imladris.

"You mustn't linger in the Shadows Gandalf, I was once told it looks to be suspicious if one is found lurking about." The old wizard stepped out from behind the large boulder, smiling at the female who dropped the stubborn dragon in the water before pulling him back out.

"Oh, and who told you that dear child?" Hermione's face remained impassive, but the merriment in her eyes and the twitching of the corner of her lip said otherwise.

"Just some crazy old man with twinkling eyes and an attitude." Mithrandir rolled his eyes and came to sit down beside the Sorceress who was now holding Scorpius to her chest as if a child. Gandalf sighed, he was wondering when Hermione would settle down with someone and have some of her own. But… that seemed to be a long time from now… or perhaps not. Depends on what her father's meddling will entail.

"Now, now. One must speak kindly of our dear old friend Radagast." The short female burst into peals of laughter, Mithrandir followed in suit. Hermione believed that Radagast was much like a miniature version of Hagrid and Luna. More attuned to the world, creatures, and magic around them, than others. The pair sat in comfortable silence, Hermione holding Scorpius close and rocking him like a child, attempting to put the scaly little thing to sleep.

"What brings you here Mithrandir, you are not one to just ride upon Imladris for some bread and lettuce. There is something which troubles you and it is not the company of Thorin Oakenshield. It seems to have something to do with my father, so I will not push. But I do expect an answer when you arrive at Baggins home." The sorceress stood, smiling kindly at the wizard who was much like a grandfather to her. She had told him all she could without going into details, so he knew what to do and what not to do

"I will be leaving for said home within the next month, though I have not met Bilbo personally, his parents were mighty fine hobbits, as were most of the children and other Hobbits in the Shire… speaking of children." Hermione's shoulders slumped and her face was one of disbelief.

"You to? Naneth has been not to subtly hinting how she wants grandelflings. Of course she can't hint that towards Arwen! Nooo, Arwen is her precious little one and I might as well be a Flobberworm. And don't even get me started on father! Poor Glorfindel, Ada has been attempting to pair us up for centuries, I believe he is a few years away from drawing a betrothal contract between us." Hermione ranted, it was something she was good at, that and being dramatic. But while she was ranting, Hermione was also aware of the aura which Gandalf had, there was a small spike of anxiety as Hermione mentioned betrothal contract.

But Hermione didn't mention it, even if she didn't like it, she would hoard that knowledge for a later date, right now, she had some other things to do.

"Arwen seems to like Haldir and is even willing to settle down, you on the other hand dear… you haven't even expressed your interest in someone other than Glorfindel for an occasional… stress reliever. Now I'm not reprimanding you since that is your mother's job, but why must you refuse the attempts of any ellon who even looks at you in a flirtatious manner?" Sighing, Hermione turned on her heel. She had-had this conversation too many times in the past few hundred years. Walking down the hill, she heard the soft chuckle from Mithrandir as she began to rock Scorpius while on the way to her room. There were a few weeks before she had to be at Bag End, she would use those weeks wisely and plant something to keep the forest of The Great Greenwood safe from anymore darkness attempting to leak in.

* * *

There was a reason Hermione never met Prince Legolas or his father King Thranduil. There was a petty rivalry between bother Elrond and Thranduil over something or another that Hermione didn't know the full details of, but she knew it was stupid. Hermione once attempted to travel to the woods with her brothers since she was taking Elladan and Elrohir around Middle Earth to show them what it was like beyond the Valley of Imladris. But that was actually the first time Hermione had attempted to step foot in the forest.

As she placed her hand on one of the trunks of the trees that day, she heard the trees singing to her. It was abnormal since she had only heard the singing of the tree very few times… but it wasn't even the odd singing. It was the feeling of magic in the air, it reminded Hermione of the same magic from the Forbidden Forest. She turned tail and fled, telling her brother's she'd meet them in Dale in a few months' time.

This time was no different, but Hermione wanted to do this. She felt like she owed the people of Greenwood something since she had her own enchantments on all the major elven, dwarfish, and man made cities. But not on Greenwood. Beorn, Hermione's best friend for years upon years and a skin changer, had attempted to take her within the forest but she screamed bloody murder and shifted into her Animagus before flying back to the farm in record time.

It would take a week even with her Animagus wings to get this done. There was a reason other than to extract Orc's from Mount Doom. She needed to create four balls of cooled lava rock, then inscribe them with runes, the runes were a mixture of dwarfish, elvish, and ones from her years with Harry and Ronald.

And so a week passed, Hermione digging four holes 10ft deep and then burying the stonework before closing the hole again. The stones were connected to the magically lengthened roots of the eldest trees facing a certain direction, like East, West, North, and South.

When Hermione finished the last one, she watched the magical dome build itself up above the forest and meet so far up above the forest even Hermione's elvish vision had issues seeing. So from there, Hermione sent her personal Owl, others used Thrush's, but Hermione preferred the Snow White owl named Hedwig the Second. Hedwig was sent to Thranduil with a long letter informing the King of the Greenwood of what the stone's would do.

They would purge the land of all that is considered evil, like spiders, Orcs, or any other harmful creature which threatened the wood. The magic included a fair bit of mind magic as it would delve into someone's mind and know the intentions of anyone who was within the forest, or attempted to enter the forest. Though the magic would not kill the person, it would merely apperate said person the boundary lines where they will be detained by the enchanted trees for judgment by Prince Legolas or King Thranduil.

This was what Hermione was telling Beorn as she sat down for a nice glass of goat milk, but two hours later as she got deeper into the reasoning, she noticed Beorn had fallen asleep. It wasn't uncommon, even her mother had been caught with eyes glazed over with Elven Sleep a few hours into Hermione's lectures.

As Hermione lay in her bed in the room which she helped Beorn build for herself since she was a more than common visitor, she wondered exactly what she would say to Bilbo Baggins when she met him.

* * *

"Master Hobbit! Have you seen a tall wizard around here wearing gray and holding an absurd looking staff, going by Gandalf the Gray? Perhaps he has asked you to go on an absurd Adventure?" Bilbo Baggins was just about to sit down for breakfast when there came a soft ring at his beautiful green door. He quickly got up and opened the door to find a smiling female who looked like hobbit, but also looked completely different from a normal Hobbit. There was a happy yet calming feeling about her.

"Why yes! He happened to stop by yesterday, asking if I wanted an adventure of all things. I told him he could take those nasty uncomfortable things down The Hill, or Across the Water. What –if you don't mind me asking- brings you to ask of Mr. Gandalf?" Hermione laughed softly at the utter look of repulsion on the face of the Hobbit, she already liked him because at one point and time she was the same way, but that was in her first year at Hogwarts.

"Forgive my lack of manners today Master Hobbit, I have had a long journey. Miss Hermione Elarinya, Eldest of Lord Elrond of Imladris." The Hobbit's jaw dropped, he had only heard of folk from Imladris or Rivendell as it was more commonly known. He had never met an elf, and Elrond was an Elf lord. So for this female to be his Eldest that must mean she is an elf as well, but Hermione looked nothing like the paintings of elves within his books.

"Bilbo Baggins at your service, please, please come in and have breakfast with me, it would be very foolish to send you on your way Miss Elarinya without anything, stay for a while." With pleasantries exchanged, Hermione entered the Hobbit Hole. It made Hermione wonder as to how Tolkien managed to get the interior of Bag End perfectly described, down to the furnishings of the room. Hanging up her soft forest green cloak, Hermione followed the down the hall to the kitchen.

"Master Baggins, I would prefer Hermione if you will. The titles are for my family, I wish to take no part in them even if they can get me out of sticky situations which my brothers drag me into." Bilbo laughed loudly, he knew naught of siblings, while he would have wished for some of his own at times… they sounded troublesome. But his mother Belladonna Took Baggins was the youngest of nine, and not to speak harshly of his loving mother who had passed on, she was a bit adventurous. And if siblings made someone wish to leave their door and strut unto the wild, than Bilbo wished to have no part of them.

"Now, if I call you Hermione, than you must call me Bilbo. For it is only fair. Would you share the knowledge of Imladris with me? I have only heard whispers and read tales of the Valley of the Singing Elves." Hermione's eyes brightened significantly, they shown with knowledge and kindness at the mere mention of her home.

"There is no word in any language that can describe how beautiful it is… As I share knowledge of my home with you I shall share knowledge of myself with you because you can take the Elf from Imladris, but you can never truly take the Elf from Imladris."

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Hours later, tea time arrived. Hermione was anxious, but the Hobbit could not tell, he was deep in one of his stories about his time as a child with his mother. Even though Bilbo fancied himself nothing of an adventurer, he was wilder as a child than any others his age at the time.

Hermione missed the Shire, she had been here once or twice before, not anytime within the past hundred years though. It always had the calm feeling which the old Hermione would have liked, the no nonsense air to the hobbits was what she once wished for as she read stories of the Shire as a child in her old time, before her death. But now, she didn't want this life. It was nice to visit and stay a few days but it was stifling.

There would be nothing to do, perhaps run a small business, garden, and knit… all sounded horrible. She liked to be doing something, even if it was read a book by a fire. At least that was something to do, of course she could do that here at the Shire if she wished to… but it wouldn't be the same. Hermione believed that she needed no explanation as to why, it just wouldn't be the same. Even in Imladris it was calm, there weren't as many people there as in Lothlórien where Grandmother Galadriel was, it was still too quiet. Gondor was nice while it lasted, she had watched the people age rapidly, be born and then what feels like a week later at the most, die. Erabor, Hermione could live there if it was returned to its previous glory. But not for more than 10 years.

The hustle and bustle of the dwarves and their loud manners. But it would be a little over baring at times that was for sure. She had stayed with Thror and Thrain before Thorin was even born, or thought of… it was quiet and calm then. Hermione could not see herself living in the madness for long without going mad herself.

The ring of the bell snapped Hermione from her thoughts, she was sure that if she aged normally, she'd be going through a mid-life crisis.

"Oh dear, I am quite sorry Hermione. In my rush yesterday to avoid the wizard you call your Grandfather, I may have invited him to tea. I hope you don't mind." It took only a few seconds to keep from laughing, but Hermione simply smiled even if the side of her mouth was twitching slightly.

"No, I do not mind Bilbo. Off with you, last time I checked, it is quite rude to keep a guest waiting." With no more commentary on that part, Bilbo rushed from the room as the bell rang again, much louder. Hermione scrunched up her nose as the sound. While the bell was a beautiful sound, it wasn't too beautiful when being abused. It sounded like some child was attempting to kill the bell by yanking on the string, causing all sorts of ruckus in the process.

Hermione didn't even have to use her elven hearing, she knew what was going to happen. With the wave of a small hand, the proper cakes were laid out. While Hermione loved her powers, she didn't abuse them. But every once in a while, she would bite her thumb at the time before her death where they spent years teaching Hermione that you can't create food from nothing. The piping hot seed cakes and chilled wheat mead were a prime example that one can create food from nothing, even if you have to be something like a Demi-God to do so.

Bilbo rushed in, following after Dwalin, his head was bald and had markings. He was actually very tall for a dwarf, but Hermione believed that he didn't get the recognition because he wasn't entirely considered 'handsome'. He was charming in his own glaring way, perhaps a fleck of niceness here and there and every blue moon. But poor Bilbo, even though this was the very first dwarf to arrive tonight, he seemed flustered.

"Where did these cakes come from? Only this type of seed grew in Lindon." Dwalin's rough voice sound out as he dropped into a chair across from Hermione.

"Magic, Master Dwalin, Magic." Hermione said as if the most normal thing in the world. Truly though; it was normal to her.

"Have I not seen you before? You look quite familiar…" The dwarf's eyes narrowed in suspicion, Hermione merely put on a pants charming smile, aware that Bilbo was making tea in the kitchen.

"I stayed in Erabor multiple times before Smaug. Balin and Óin were good friends of mine, no doubt that you had seen me helping in the healing ward on multiple occasions." That seemed to put him at semi ease as he dug into the seed cakes, still throwing glares Hermione's way every once in a while. Bilbo came into the dining room and smiled at Hermione, a smile she returned.

"Worry not Bilbo, I will take care of the seed cakes. A few of my journeys have taken me to multiple dwarf dwellings and I know how much they can pack down when having a normal meal, let alone not having a good meal like Dwalin here." As if on cue, the faint rumble of the dwarf's stomach was heard. Just as Bilbo went to sit down, there came another nock on the door. Oh, poor Hobbit. With a quick 'excuse me', Bilbo was off down the hall. Hermione, though a master at Legilimens, didn't even need to look into the hobbits mind to know what was going through his head.

"I see they have begun to arrive already. Balin, at your service." Right as the door opened, Hermione heard her old friend's voice. Balin was one of the most well-mannered dwarves Hermione had met personally, even Thror and Thrain didn't have the type of manners as Balin. With the wave of a hand, Balin's favorite seed cake appeared and his favorite ale made from the cave dwelling goat's milk of the Blue Mountains.

And Balin too came waltzing into the dining room, only having eyes for his brother as he hugged and then head-butted. A common dwarfish greeting among kin who had not seem each other in some time. Then Balin's head moved to Hermione and if possible, they lit up even more. Much a like a Christmas tree from Hermione's old time.

"Hermione Elarinya! I have not seen you in what feels like decades!" The sorceress laughed softly, standing up and pulling the elder dwarf into a tight hug.

"That is because it has been decades, Balin. You seemed to have gotten shorter, or is it rounder?" The pair laughed, Hermione thankful she had placed a sound repressing charm on the rooms or else Bilbo would be even more freaked than he already was.

"Perhaps a little bit of both…." It was mumbled into Balin's beard, Hermione wouldn't have heard it if not for her enhanced hearing.

"Now, now. Your secret is safe with me, Balin. Now go eat, I need to help calm down Bilbo before he has a panic attack." That was Hermione's way of excusing herself. Turning on a dime, Hermione summoned a cup of calming tea, nothing too strong, just enough to help the poor hobbit. Finding Bilbo wasn't hard, not at all. He was leaned against a hallway wall, hands on his knees and hunched over at the waist.

"Take this, Bilbo. It will help, has some herbs in it that will calm your nerves. They will more than likely stay for supper since they are dwarves. I advise you to put your pantry(s), under lock and key. They will raid them." Her words soft, Hermione sat down beside the still standing hobbit who was gripping the teacup so tight Hermione was sure that it would break. But it didn't. Bilbo sat down next to the female.

"I have known you for less than a day and I feel like I've known you forever. Thank you for the tea Hermione, and for dealing with the dwarves, and for the suggestion of lock and key." The pair sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before the bell rang again. This time, Hermione got up, keeping a hand on Bilbo's shoulder to keep him where he was.

"I can handle this, you just relax for a moment." All the Hobbit could do was nodded dumbly as Hermione walked off down the hall towards the green front door. Hermione swung the door open wide and stepped aside as both Fíli and Kíli strutted in.

"Fíli!" "And Kíli!" "At your service." Just what Hermione needed, dwarves who were not only like her brothers, but like Fred and George as well.

"Hermione Elarinya, Princess of Imladris, Eldest of Elrond, at yours. Bilbo Baggins, your host, is currently dealing with Balin and Dwalin who have arrived a while ago. While you are here, what do you want for tea time, and then what do you want for supper? Anything goes, just say it and you will have it. Nothing is impossible for me." Hermione stood proud, her chin jutted out and up some, her back ramrod straight but looked relaxed. An example of a Princess.

"A princess? Okay, well let's see if this is impossible." Kíli stepped forward with a look that was supposed to be something along the lines of 'confident male ego'. As Fíli went to wipe some mud off his boots onto a boot box that was no doubt, old. Hermione snapped her fingers and the dwarf's foot was shocked, momentarily putting Kíli off his challenging path.

"You would do well not to do that to something that is not yours. Dís did not raise her children to be so impolite, must be Thorin wearing off on you." Both boys looked at the female who was only a few inches shorter than the both of them, clearly confused.

"I was friends with your mother before you were born. Fíli might have a little remembrance of me, but I don't expect Kíli to seeing as he was barely a few months old when I left. Now, tell me what you want and off with you." A hint of recognition was visible in Fíli's eyes, unlike Kíli who still remained confused. And so the pair did place their orders and wandered off down the hall, Fíli sending a saucy wink to Hermione causing her to laugh softly. As she looked at the all grown up dwarf now, she seen nothing but a little blonde boy who had just learned how to take his clothes off and often streaked naked around their home in the Blue Mountains.

Quickly, Hermione bustled back to the kitchen. Hearing Fíli and Kíli mentioning something about a 'throng' of people, poor, poor Bilbo. The witch was sure he would die of pure shock right then and there. Hermione was not sure if she should pity the poor Hobbit, but decided against it, he didn't need pity. Anyone would be flustered if dwarves just started popping up of the blue and onto their door steps, barging in and being quite rude. Instead of ringing of the bell, Hermione heard the stamping of Gandalf's staff on the door, more than likely ridding the door of the mark which he had placed. Before Hermione could stop Bilbo, he went running down the halls, hoping to tear Gandalf a new on about the Dwarves eating in his kitchen.

In his haste, he threw open the door and in fell 9 dwarves and a merry, twinkling eyed Gandalf behind them bent over looking inside. This would be a long night and Hermione felt bad that Scorpius would have a late dinner. He was currently tucked in Hermione's satchel, tied to a tree, and put under a sleeping spell.

One by one, the grumbling dwarves introduced themselves. Óin giving Hermione a tight hug, as it has been years since you had seen each other, the last time being in Erabor in the medical ward, working together. The Dwarves did break the lock on the pantry doors and proceeded to raid it, Hermione simply sent a look towards Bilbo, who was attempting to get people to put things down and to not touch other things all while telling others that they have the wrong house. It was quite entertaining.

"Mithrandir, I fear you will run your burglar into the grave even before your adventure even begins." Hermione laughs softly as she watches Bilbo buzz around this kitchen and dining room. Gandalf smiles, but it does not reach his eyes. Which is rare.

"You wished for answers as to why I was within Imladris before, no? Do you still wish for them?" The witch need to not thing of it, she wants to know. Something that gets Gandalf this worried is something to be worried about.

"Of course, Mithrandir." He nods solemnly before motioning for her to follow him down the hall towards Bilbo's study. The study was warm, soft colors with no windows, but was lit by slow burning lanterns. Gandalf took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fire, it was too small, but he seemed to be as comfortable as he could be, as if he wasn't about to deliver life changing information.

 **"Your father has drawn up a marriage contract between you and Prince Legolas Greenleaf, he wanted me to officiate it."**

* * *

 **A/N** **I probably do deserve death, not only for this ending and cliff hanger, but because I have gone so long without updating. I truly feel horrible. Those of you who keep an eye on the comments would have read the comment I posted. My best friend should be coming and staying within the next few days and we will revise, but I will try my hardest to update soon. I have finals in two weeks so I really need to revise and work on some lessons which I have allowed myself to get behind on.**

 **On a happier note... Happy Late-ish Easter! I hope everyone had a nice holiday, consider this a present. Any spelling and grammar mistakes are my own, I have already started planning the Sequel that will undoubtedly happen.**

 **There will only be flashes of Hermione and Legolas in this Fanfiction, no matter how saddening, I have a bigger plot for the two. I may write some one-shots if you request them. Anyway, Thank you all for dealing with my late uploads, thank you all for reading my work. I have almost reached 2k visitors and views, which makes me so happy. Just thank you all. Leave your reviews please, don't forget to favorite and follow for** **alerts of my updates.**


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